Fate: America
by Evowizard25
Summary: The Second Holy Grail War is about to begin but this one is not like the previous. No, this war will take place in a new location: The USA in the year 1864. The masters and unusual servants will be thrown through a loop by this odd war.
1. Chapter 1

In the land of the gods, the Norse gods to be precise, there lived a clever being. He looked rather handsome and charming with an abode so rich and luxurious that many would kill to own. He himself was sipping the finest of wines. His magic was next to only Odin himself as were the enchantments that kept his house safe from intruders. He had his fair share of experiences when it came to unwanted guests. This was especially so with his nephew, Thor. Oh how he both loved and despised his nephew. Thor had dragged him on so many adventures or forced him to do so many things.

So what if he tore out his wife's hair that one time. She looks better in black hair anyway. No, he had to mess with some stupid dwarvish smith as a fly and that wasn't fun at all. Thankfully, he found ways to have a little fun. Like that time that Thor had to wear a dress and pretend to be a woman. Now that was a hoot.

However he didn't have any of that to entertain him anymore. Instead, he was just laying about his own house. He kept trying to think of something to do but he had either done it already or just knew, just knew, he'd be punished hard for it. He really wanted to avoid causing Ragnarok unintentionally or something because of a prank. It'd be hilarious, but he wanted to live, thank you very much.

So he looked to the mortal planes. The other gods were targets, yes, but for now they could wait. Right now he wanted to mess with some mortals. He didn't get to interact with them nearly as much as he used to. He missed the way he could just walk among them. In some worlds, he still could. In others they either didn't believe in him or would hunt him. He didn't care much for those two train of thoughts. So he kept searching. That is, until he found something.

The Norse God Loki, the trickster god, smiled. "Oh? What is this? A figment of that silly grail summoning random heroes to do battle for some root? How droll, yet so fun." He played with his chin. "I could watch this play out by itself. Could be fun before I take the plunge."

"Oh no," a feminine and seductive voice spoke up. "That war is mine."

Loki rolled his eyes before locking on to a voluptuous and beautiful woman, "Eris, long time no see my fellow mischief maker. So you say you're actually invested in this war?"

Eris laughed, "Invested? Darling, I created my own version. Oh it's fun to watch those wars play out. There are so many of them but the choices? Limited. So I expanded them. Created my own rules and did what I wanted."

Loki raised an eyebrow, "And how did you do that? I presume to think that this system would have powerful beings watching over them."

Eris laughed, "Angra Mainyu is no powerful being, nor is he a god. He wishes to be a god however."

Loki groaned, "A god of evil, I presume?" Eris nodded, chuckling. "Oh great, another mortal trying to be a big bad. When will they learn that's our job?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Eris shrugged. "However, if he gets his way, he might become a problem if you wish to visit the nearby planes of that world."

"Hasn't he won at least once in any world?" Loki questioned.

"Possibly, but we only get to see a limited number of worlds." Eris spoke. "You know how boring it would be if we just watched a bunch of worlds with little differences."

Loki nodded, "True, true." He stroked his chin, "Maybe I'll just get around that. Maybe affect a war that doesn't have him."

Eris smiled, "But where's the fun in that?"

Loki held up a finger, "The fun is in the competitors themselves. I wish to see how they act and commit to this war so I shall create my own type like you have."

Eris giggled and drew closer, "You're a man after my own heart."

Loki held up a hand, "I'm married."

"To two women," Eris spoke. "What is a third?"

"Don't tempt me woman," Loki joked before rubbing his hands together. "I have work to do."

"And I'll be watching," Eris noted as she started to vanish. "Oh just be careful not to push anything. You know how the other gods or those 'organizations' between worlds will be."

"Let them squawk," Loki grinned. "I'm going to have some fun. Now I just need to have someone help out a little."

* * *

The year was 1864 in the mundane world. The location was none other than the southern United States of America. The rising sun set a calm and peaceful tone upon the earth. The fields of tall grass moved slightly to the wind while the trees stood impassively to everything around them. Little animals scurried, ran, and flew around as if they didn't have much a care in the world. It was calm and peaceful.

A deep chuckle broke the peaceful sight. At the edge of the forest, a man wearing a large overcoat and stetson hat atop his head took in everything. The animals seemed to be wary of the man. None of them would approach. His very essence seemed to be the very antithesis of the area around him.

"Amusing location," the man idly commented to himself. "Yes, very amusing." He chuckled before taking out a pocket watch. "Any day now." His hands gripped the watch lightly as he looked at the time. Yes, he noted. This place would do for what was to come. A part of him felt a tad sorry for the people who lived nearby. They would see carnage the likes of which hadn't been seen before, on a scale that only their recent Civil War could replicate. Yet, not in the exact way.

'Not in the entertaining way, at least.' He thought to himself. He knew something was off about this whole thing. It wasn't supposed to happen here. This sort of thing was supposed to take place in Europe or Asia. The North Americas? He honestly found the people here too rowdy or thick headed to really understand the war to come. To really get involved and take it to its full potential. Yet here it was to happen.

'No matter. The War will happen whether here or there,' He nodded and put away the watch. Perhaps, he thought to himself, that he would meet the contestants. It was only fitting that he would get to see them with his own eyes. Well, before they went off to start killing each other that is. That's where the fun would begin. He couldn't help but smile and if one were paying attention, they would see the gleam of fangs.

* * *

 **Hello everyone. This is Evowizard here and you may be wondering why I'm writing another multi-Fate crossover. Well it's mostly because I enjoy the concept and I wanted to do something, well, unique. I haven't read a purely different Grail War so I wanted to try my hand at it. I know the prologue is kind of short but I do hope to establish and explore the new characters shortly and I hope you all enjoy this story. Please leave a comment if you would be so kind as they do help.**


	2. Chapter 2

Within the depths of the frigid cold winter of Germany, the Einzbern castle stood tall and proud. As proud as the magus who lived there. They were amongst the most notorious and powerful in the entirety of magedum. Their skills in alchemy were equalled by none. Few would ever dare to enter the premises without their consent. If they did, they also had an army of highly trained homunculi that were prepared to fight to the death.

Of course, all of that wouldn't matter if they weren't a regular human. That wasn't something the Einzberns could regularly factor in. To which one being took advantage of without hesitation.

One of the Homunculi was patrolling the grounds the being was in. It was a beautiful albino woman in a strange battle maid uniform with long braided hair. Her large axe was held without much effort. She was a typical Einzbern homunculus. However, the being planned to change that.

"Well hello beautiful~"

The homunculus whirled around to face the new voice. The human before her looked like one of those cowboys from America yet there was something off about him, "State your business or I will be forced to kill you."

"What? Business without pleasure?" The man tilted his head to the side questioningly. "You're no fun. I think a change of pace is in order to liven you up."

The homunculus narrowed her eyes, "My masters will know of you."

The man nodded, "That they will and you are going to tell them, with a little something extra for yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

The man pulled down his arm, to show that it was covered in command seals. "You see, in this war I'm the one who's going to be choosing the combatants. Well I'm more like the messenger but my boss isn't going to come down himself to hand them out. You are to be the master for the Einzbern servant."

"I am a homunculus," the 'woman' retorted. "The Holy Grail War has no place for me."

"On the contrary," the man raised a finger. "It has every place to be in it. So please, if you wish to make your masters happy, stick out your hand and receive your command seals. If you don't, the Einzberns aren't going to participate."

The homunculus' eyes widened, "Impossible. They are amongst the three founding families of this war. They must participate."

"Then accept your position, beautiful." The man grinned.

The homunculus hesitated. She looked around for any support. She wasn't used to making split second decisions on her own. Yet, she knew what she had to do to make her masters happy. She moved forward to receive the command seals, sticking out her hand. She would do this for her masters. She was their servant. Her very existence was made to serve them and if they wished to end her and take the command seals for another, then so be it.

The man delicately took her hand and a small burning sensation happened. She winced before the man brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her eyes widened and she felt a foreign warmth to her cheeks. No one had shown her any such intentions or actions before. None that had any warmth, yet…

"I honestly find the company of homunculi better than humans," he let her hand fall and turned. "Do not sell yourself short, miss…"

"I have no name," was her answer.

He turned to stare at her before giving a sad sigh, "Those fools thought not to give you a name? I would give you one as pretty as you." He tapped his chin before grinning, "Hilde. Do the name proud."

And thus the first contestant of the Holy Grail War was chosen.

* * *

The mysterious man made his way through the woods of Sweden. He couldn't help but take a deep breath as he enjoyed the sensation of his ancient home. It didn't take him long to pick up a trail and find who he was looking for. Two burly men stood on watch with rifles in their hands. They brought it up to point at him to which he raised a little medallion in in the shape of the Asatru symbol. Their eyes widened as they let him pass.

He quickly found who he was looking for out in the open area of the large camp. Two opponents were sparring. One a large, burly man while the other was a woman. She was exceptionally beautiful in northern standards, wearing the olden furred armor of their ancestors. Underneath all of that was a muscular physique from years of training. No doubt they would have smiled heartedly with her. In her fighting style, he could see such power yet finesse that would make poets weep with her skills. The burly man was no slouch either. Over and over each sought to exploit some weakness. Their swords clashes, ringing in the air as they used the flat of their blade to counter and strike. Their shields blocked blows and sometimes were used to bash away a strike or arm.

Of course, the woman had something in mind. She jumped back and created a bit of distance between herself and the man. When he made to charge, she threw the shield like a disk. The shield smacked into his his leg, causing him to stumble. When he did, she raced forward with almost inhumane speed and smashed her shoulder into him, knocking him to the ground. Then she pointed her sword at his prone figure.

"Yield," the woman spoke.

The man sighed before laughing, "I yield." The woman smiled and pulled him up, "You've gotten better. That's two to three. I'll even the score next time."

"I hope you will, good friend." The woman laughed and waved him off.

"Signy," the mysterious man spoke up. "It has been too long. The last time I saw you, you were but a child."

The woman turned to him and smiled, "I bet you said the exact same thing to my grandmother. Now what is it that you wish to tell me, hmm?"

The man smiled, "I have the means to grant you your wish."

Signy's eyes widened, "How?"

"The gods have spoken to me," the man winced. "One in particular but that is not important. All you have to do is as I say and accept the burden of fighting-"

"I am a daughter of the gods," Singy thumped a fist against her breast. "I was born to fight and if I shall die in this war, I shall gladly be welcomed in Valhalla."

The man's smile returned with full force, "I am glad to hear that, Signy. I sincerely hope that you win this. Either way, may you toast with Odin himself at the table when all of this is over."

Thus the second master of the Holy Grail War was chosen.

* * *

Japan. This was the hardest country to get into if the mysterious man had anything to say. It was a nice country and honestly a bit of him liked their stance on some of the West's traditions but that was mostly because of his own. The Shinto gods certainly intrigued him. Perhaps if Signy's wish happened he would get to face their forces in glorious combat.

The person he was after was one of the Tohsakas. A family of secret christians, he pondered why they would not work with the gods more attuned with magic but that wasn't anything of his to say. He wasn't exactly human and it had been a long time since he knew what it was like to think and be one. So he entered the abode and found the human kneeling and examining his katana.

"Hello mister Tohsaka," the mysterious man waved. "I take it you are the one who shall be fighting in the Holy Grail War?"

The man paused, "I am."

The mysterious man raised his arms with the commands seals plain as day on them, "Then I have what you seek."

"I have to ask," the man spoke as he turned to him. He was an aging man who looked weary from life and war. "Will there be worthy challengers in this war?"

The mysterious man's eyebrows quirked upwards. Something about the way he said it almost made it seem… oh this was going to be fun. He grinned and nodded, "Adversaries that will give you all the challenge in the world. You just have to accept and you will trade blade strikes with them."

The man stood up and walked over, "Then I will gladly win the Grail for my family."

Thus the Third master of the Holy Grail War had accepted the choice.

* * *

Inside the Matou lineage's building, a cackling man was chowing down on something. Well, it used to be someone until he had gotten hungry. The man looked akin to an animal with how he was eagerly biting and tearing away flesh from the corpse of what once was a middle aged woman.

"Oh now this is some good stuff," the man's grin was crooked and his eyes seemed to bulge in insanity. "Should have been more careful, girl. Don't know who is prowling, but you did make up for it. You're so delicious."

"Don't get used to it," a mysterious voice spoke up. The Matou turned his head to look at a scowling visage before him. "Devouring someone in such a manner and not for a purpose. You are vile incarnate, or at least I would say so if your grandfather wasn't alive."

The man giggled, "Oh? Do you want some?" He held up the remains of what once was a human arm, "You see, I hang around Crest Worms so much that I kinda like being one. They like it too~ It's so warm and juicy."

"Do not talk to me about eating humans," the mysterious man's scowl deepened. "I've drinken my fair share of them so please be silent and just accept the command seals."

Thus the fourth master was hurriedly given his command seals for the Holy Grail War.

* * *

Salali couldn't help but gulp as she stood before the tent of the village elder. She shook slightly before steeling herself. She was a little girl and wasn't even close to reaching maturity yet she had been told that a great bit of responsibility had been placed on her shoulders. She wasn't sure if she was worthy. Yet, she knew she had to do this. She was a Cherokee. She would not back down. So she took in a breath and pushed in the flap.

Before her was the village elder, a wise and kindly old man. Beside him was an incredibly unnerving white man. There was just something about him that made her want to scurry away and hide.

The village elder held out a hand, "Come, Salali. Come sit with us. We have much to discuss." Salali did as she was told, "Do you know why you are here?"

Salali nodded, "I… I am to do something important for the tribe."

The elder nodded, "Exactly and this man here will be the one helping you get everything set for it."

The mysterious man grinned, "Indeed I will. You are probably one of the most interesting choices for the Holy Grail War, little Salali. Usually the Grail doesn't try and pick masters so young but it seems this time the Grail, well, has other plans."

"But… but what do I have to do?" Salali nervously asked.

"Accept this offer," the mysterious man extended a hand. "Accept it and you will have the choice of any one wish you want. A wish that could help you and your people immensely."

Salali's eyes widened, "I could help everyone? Really? With just one wish?"

The mysterious man nodded, "Of course and all you have to do is accept it. I would like to say that this will not be an easy task. There will be obstacles and other people fighting for it. You may get hurt or worse."

Salali quickly looked to the village elder who nodded. She looked to the ground, unsure of her choice. On the one hand, she was young. Getting hurt in a war wasn't something she wanted to do. The White People were already fighting a really long and bloody war and it could spill over and hurt her own people. She had heard the whispers. She didn't want anyone to get hurt. She she looked at him and nodded, "I'll do it."

The mysterious man chuckled and ruffled her hair, "You will do great in this war."

Thus the fifth master for the Holy Grail War was chosen.

* * *

Colonel Peter Jackson of the Confederate Army was understandably nervous as he approached the office of the Confederate President Davis. He had never expected to be called forth to meet him, especially without any real reason. The messenger had been so vague, just basically telling him to come here to get this all said and done in person. If it was so secretive that it had to be this way, it must have been important.

Which is why he was nervous. If this was an important meeting, that meant that the matters at hand were dire. Why else just bring in a lowly Colonel to meet the President. He straightened his suit before entering, "You wanted to…"

Sitting in the room with the president was a man who made Peter want to run. He looked like a criminal. A killer. A remorseless man of arms. He wanted to shoot him. He wanted to scream. All these thoughts raged inside his head in the tense few seconds.

"I am glad you made it," President Jefferson Davis spoke. "I have been talking with our associate here. He has told me a number of strange and interesting things."

"What sort of things, Mr. President?" Peter spoke at attention. He would not lose decorum here in the Oval Office of the Confederacy.

The mysterious man stood up and smiled at him, "A means for you to win this war, Colonel Peter Jackson."

Peter's eyes widened at that. A sure fire way to beat the Yankees? That seemed absurd. They were pushed to their ropes as it was. All their previous 'no sell, should win' inventions had failed or weren't that game changing. This man must be mad.

The president nodded, "It is true, which is why I will put you in charge of this operation, Colonel Peter Jackson."

"What is my objective, mister president?"

"The Holy Grail," the mysterious man's grin made him shiver slightly. "Now hold out your hand and received your command seals. They will help you win this war and give the wish granting device to your leaders so you may win this war."

Peter couldn't believe it. A Holy Grail? Like the story? The president actually believed this story? He wouldn't believe it yet the president, a man he was sure was ten times smarter than him, sure did. He scratched his head and took it. "For the Confederacy, may it last forever."

Thus the sixth master of the Holy Grail War prepared for battle.

* * *

The air around the large camp stank of alcohol and degenerates who hadn't taken baths in months if that. The roaring fire in the middle of it blazed in defiance, devouring the foul air around it. Cackles and laughter filled the air as wicked robbers counted their loot. They had previously robbed a railroad car and made quite the profit. Most of them were sitting by the fire with their gold, jewels, and food. They seemed happy and content with their way of life.

It made Patrick Fields sick to his very stomach. The aging man gave every one of them a deathly glare from the shadows. Oh how he knew they'd wish for a silent end with just a glare. He wasn't going to give them an easy out. They had a bounty on their heads after all.

One of the men had moved away from the main group. He would be the first to die. Patrick moved towards him like a shadow. A silent predator stalking his prey. As the man moved to relieve himself, Patrick struck like a viper. He put one hand over the man's mouth and slit his throat with the other. He made sure to break it for good measure. He wasn't one to prolong death. He had seen enough of that in his lifetime. Of course, he knew he'd see more. That was the way things went with him. As a soldier, or as a bounty Hunter, he couldn't escape it. He had grown numb to it all, honestly.

"So," one of the law breakers spoke up. "What're we hitting up next, boss?"

The boss smiled, "I tell you what we're going to hit up. There's this little town nearby, see? Well we have enough men to go in and rob the bank without any of the lawmakers coming after us. It's easy pickings, is what it is." The other robbers chuckled and celebrated over the idea.

"Hey," one of them spoke up. "Maybe we can steal some of their gals too." Some of the other chuckled and raised a drink in agreement.

That wasn't going to happen on his watch. Patrick pulled out his pistols as he closed the distance. That's when he fired. Five shots whizzed towards the camping lawbreakers. They shouted in alarm. Some of them drew their weapons while others scampered to find cover. Patrick noted that three were already dead while another was still moaning. He scowled, _'Getting sloppy.'_

He quickly hid behind a tent. One of the goons ran right around and received a bullet to the head from Patrick's gun. "Ralf Higgens! Come out with your hands up!"

"You and what army?!" Ralf, the boss of this villainous posse, shouted back.

"Got enough to kill your boys," Patrick answered. "You're down five. They don't grow on trees, you know."

"Damn you!" Ralf shouted from somewhere close. "Boys, kill him!"

Patrick moved quickly. Two of the goons appeared before him, slightly surprised but eagerly drawing their weapons on him. It was too late. Patrick's guns fired before they could even pull the trigger, killing them both.

He heard another one coming and he elbowed the man in the face before firing into another one. "This all you got?"

"Why you?!" Ralf shouted. "I will wear your-Urk."

Patrick frowned as he didn't expect that sound. He knew it well enough. Perhaps one of the other henchmen hit him by accident. He was lucky that the bounty was dead or alive. Of course his musings were cut short when there came even more sudden screaming from before which caused his eyes to widen. Some other bounty hunters must have shown up or something.

A groan caught his attention. He brought his gun down to point at the downed man he had elbowed. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed that it was no man. It was just a boy barely sixteen. He hadn't even really had begun to grow any hair on his chin. He thought about just killing him. He should just kill him. It'd be quick. It'd be efficient and he wouldn't have to deal with him later on. Yet… He pulled the gun back after he noticed the kid wasn't going to get up any time soon.

"Awww, you do have a soft spot." A strange voice spoke up.

Patrick couldn't help but find it shiver inducing. He whirled around and pointed his gun at the talker before it almost fell out of his hands. His eyes widened and his heartbeat increased. Before him was a brown coated, stetson wearing man covered in fresh blood. This was especially so around his mouth and the fangs he was sporting in his grin. This wasn't a human. This was a Dead Apostle. A vampire.

"Where's the confidence, Patrick?" The Dead Apostle chuckled. "Come on, you should have shot me." A bullet smacked into his chest, sent from Patrick's gun. "Now that hurt."

He gritted his teeth. He didn't have anything to kill a Dead Apostle on him. "What are you here for?" Perhaps he could stall him.

"You of course," the Dead Apostle grinned. "Why else would I just leave you alive?"

"Why do you need me?"

"For the war that is about to come," the Dead Apostle's grin grew which greatly unnerved Patrick. "My master wishes for me to find the right people to participate and lucky for you, you're one of them."

"I'm not taking any party in your war," Patrick snarled. "I already lived through one. I aint going through another."

"Not even for your son," the Dead Apostle's words caught Patrick's interest and his dread. "I know all about you. That's why you didn't kill the boy. That's why you're perfect for this war. You want him back and a once in a lifetime wish is what you need."

"A wish?" Patrick narrowed his eyes. A vampire offering a wish? There was something wrong about that.

The Dead Apostle nodded, "Indeed. The Holy Grail only comes forth to the victor and it will grant you one wish. All you have to do is win it."

"Why should I believe you?" Patrick cocked his gun.

The Dead Apostle shrugged, "You don't have to. You can go on your merry way. No consequences," then his grin turned deadly. "But if you don't accept it, won't you always wonder about what you could have brought back? What you could have changed?"

Patrick's scowl deepened, "You want me to risk my life on a vampire's word about a wish granting device? Don't make me laugh."

The Dead Apostle just shrugged again and started off, "Well Patrick, then I'll be off. Just so you know, I remember having children of my own." He looked back with a maddening glint in his eyes. "You should know that a father will do anything for this kid."

Patrick looked away and closed his eyes. He shouldn't listen to this Dead Apostle. He should ignore it. They were liars. They were murderous monsters. He should run. He should hide and wait this out. This was the smart thing to do. Just get away from that thing. Yet… He looked to the kid on the ground. He remembered his own that was even younger pounding away on the drum before…

' _Damn it,'_ he thought. _'He's getting to me. Those words… they are getting to me. I should refuse. Just refuse, damnit. He doesn't understand. This is just... '_ He looked to the boy on the ground again… Then he sighed and glared at the Dead Apostle. "Look me in the eye and tell me all of that is true."

Quicker then he could blink, the Dead Apostle was before him and looked him in the eye. "It is all true. Cross my heart and hope to die."

Patrick Field looked into the monster's eyes. He saw bloodlust. He saw mayhem, but he didn't see a liar. He scowled and put away his guns. He sighed as he made up his mind, "You messed up my bounty. Guess I should at least get some kind of compensation for this venture."

"Ohoho," the Dead Apostle laughed. "You won't regret it. Now hold out your hand." Patrick hesitantly did so and the Dead Apostle put his hand over it as well. That's when Patrick felt a slight burning sensation before it was over. "There you go."

Patrick looked at the red marks on his hand and regretted doing this instantly, "What are these for?"

"For your servant, of course." The Dead Apostle grinned. "I'll explain the war later."

Patrick narrowed his eyes, "And if I want out of this?"

"Then I'll find someone else," the Dead Apostle shrugged. "But I know you want this."

Patrick gritted his teeth but let it be. He had accepted this and he was going to see it through. For his son and nobody was going to stand in his way of that. Nobody.

Thus the final contestant of the Holy Grail War was chosen.

* * *

 **Thus we meet the Masters. Don't worry everyone. The Summoning is next chapter and we'll get to meet the Servants then. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please leave a comment. They are very much appreciated and help me write better. Until next time.**


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick Field eyed the magical circle with wary intent. He had felt the sheer amount of magic it contained and using all that blood to cast this spell made him even more wary of this whole thing. Blood magic wasn't something that he felt comfortable with. It felt demonic in a way. He gave a sigh and a shake of his head. It was too late to turn back. He was going to see his son again no matter what happened, "Are you sure that's it?"

The Dead Apostle nodded, "Most assuredly. Everything is in place. You just have to give the chant and your first step in winning the Holy Grail War will be realized."

Patrick narrowed his eyes. His trigger fingers twitched. He had gotten his magic bullets ready this time so if a fight broke out, he had a chance of killing the Dead Apostle. Still, if his words rang true, this was his only shot. So he just sighed, "Fine. Then let's get this over with." He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the coming ritual.

* * *

Hilda gulped and nervously stood before the summoning circle before her. She was doing this summoning just outside the house since the human members of the Einzbern family wanted to see the summoning themselves. They didn't want to get caught out in the cold for too long. No, that was for the homunculi. The servants. Their slaves. She handn't told them of her naming. The vampire, yes. She had to give that bit of information, but not her name. The humans would never use it anyways.

They were obviously angry with her. She didn't understand it at first, but she realized that they hated her because she had the Command Seals. They wanted them to give them to her, but they were also afraid of the Dead Apostle. Some of them were demanding that she had over the Command Seals to them. Grandfather Acht had made sure that they couldn't do that. He seemed confident in her, but she knew that the real humans could make her do what they wished to do. Some of the men (and a few women) had used homunculi for pleasure on occasion as well as for combat. She was just a tool to them. Something to be thrown away after use.

She feared that they would throw her away after this. She knew she didn't have long to live anyways, but a part of her still feared to the same fate as her sisters. She didn't know why she did. It was stupid and she knew she shouldn't feel anything but still. She pushed those feelings down and closed her eyes.

She was going to do this.

"Is that thing going to summon something or not?" A haughty woman glared at her.

"Patience," Old Man Acht spoke, the eldest of the homunculi. "She will accomplish our dreams of the Root soon enough."

* * *

Yakuza Matou snacked on the arm of one of the deceased men around him. There were around seven to eight corpses lying around. He wanted to make sure this summoning went smoothly so he had killed a number of people to do so. His 'Uncle' had wanted him to do his best, so he would. His Uncle Zoukon found him annoying, but he suffered with him since he had innate magical talent and he honestly didn't care about the victims.

Yakuza threw away the arm and grinned, "Yes, now let's summon up the best servant of this war." He chuckled and danced in place, "Hopefully they'll be fun or this whole war business might be a bust." He held out his hands and closed his eyes, readying himself for the chaotic storm that was about to happen.

* * *

Fumio Tohsaka was a man of honor and reason. He abhorred violence for the sake of violence and honestly, to him this whole war was a farce. It was pointless violence for a prize only one could get. Yet his family had pledged themselves to this venture, staking their honor as magus. He would not do anything to dishonor his father's legacy. So he had used some blood of the local animals to perform the ritual. It sickened him to do so. The animals died for this farce of a war, but he didn't speak of that openly.

He was going to summon his servant and be done with this whole charade. Only then would his family know true honor as he brought back the knowledge stored within the Root. He closed his eyes and awaited the words of the summoning to spill forth.

* * *

The norse warriors crowded around the summoning circle. All of them wanted to see the type of servant they would be receiving. They wanted to see victory appear before their eyes. Signy couldn't help but bask in the adulation. Here she was, prepared to fight for their victory. For their wish. She would see the gods with her own eyes and they would thank her immensely for bringing them back.

She turned to her fellow compatriots, "Sons and daughters of the gods. Today we gather here to witness a miracle. I will summon a servant. A powerful servant that will win us the war. We will be victorious and together we shall fight to the last to secure that victory. May those that fall dine in Valhalla and those that win the day await their turn." The group cheered.

Signy smiled and turned back to the summoning circle. She closed her eyes and prepared to use the summoning chant. She didn't care a ton about magic, preferring close combat but it had its uses.

* * *

Peter Jackson stood before the summoning circle. It honestly didn't feel right to him. This whole thing felt demonic and uncomfortable. Yet, he knew he had to do this. The Confederacy needed a miracle now more then ever. He would not allow them to lose this war. If they did, they would lose everything that made them unique. They'd be destroyed and rebuilt into a shadow puppet of the North. He would not allow that to happen. He gave a look to the men surrounding him. They would follow him to the end of this war and he knew that a number of them would die. He made sure to pray for them.

He closed his eyes and prepared the chant.

* * *

Salali clenched her eyes tight as she rushed to the elder's tent. People were screaming all around her. The fire swept the area as shots were fired. The Union troops had rushed them before the tribe had known what was going on. They were killing with discrimination and she didn't know why. She hated them for what they were doing but she was powerless. She was scared. She was so scared.

She rushed into the tent to find the elder awaiting her, "They're here. The white men are here!"

The elder nodded, "I heard. That is why we must summon the servant now before it's too late. Salali, do you know the words?" When Salali nodded, he gave her a sad smile. "Good. Then speak them." He turned his head to the outside, "I will try and draw their attention away from you."

Salali's eyes widened, "No, you can't. You'll die too."

The elder chuckled, "I have foreseen this day Salali and I do not fear death. Besides, I know that this given time will aid you. You will survive this war, Salali. You must." With that, he calmly walked out of the tent.

Salali wanted to cry. She really did, but she had a mission to accomplish. So she closed her eyes and tried to block out all the screams that were quieting down. She didn't want to think about the ensuing silence. She would chant the words, not worrying about the tears leaking down her cheeks.

* * *

 _Let silver and steel be the essence._

 _Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation_

 _Let (colour of the catalyst) the colour I pay tribute to / Let my great Master (your ancestor's surname) be the ancestor_ _ *****_

 _Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall_

 _Let the four cardinal gates close._

 _Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate._

 _I hereby declare._

 _Your body shall serve under me._

 _My fate shall be your sword._

 _Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail_

 _If you will submit to this will and this reason…Then answer!_

 _An oath shall be sworn here!_

 _I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven._

 _I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!_

 _Yet, though serves with thine eyes clouded in chaos_

 _Thou, bound in the cage of madness._

 _I am he who command these chaos_

 _From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three greet words of power,_

 _Come forth from the ring of restraints,_

 _Protector of the Holy Balance!_

* * *

With those words cried out, Patrick stared at the summoned servant. Before him was a young woman. He could guess early twenties or even a bit younger. Even with her apparent age, when he looked into her blue eyes, he saw fiery determination. He also saw extreme loss and hatred towards something he didn't know. Her long blue hair billowed behind her with a golden little crown on her head, keeping it in place. Her attire was mostly blue. Her clothes had a golden lining about them and her blue cape had a red underside. She wore fingerless gloves with one of them poised over a strange longsword that had an oval like hole in near the hilt.

She stepped forward, "I am of the Saber class. Are you my Master?"

Patrick hesitated for a moment before nodding, "Yes I am, little missy."

The servant Saber nodded, "Then the pact is complete."

* * *

Hilda's jaw had dropped the moment her servant had been summoned. The same for everyone else present, except for Old Man Acht, who's eyes had only widened at the sight. Before them wasn't a regular humanoid type servant. No, this was something else. Something larger, fiercer, and more predatory. The large creature snarled and glared at the humans before it. It looked like a large bipedal lizard. The creature was pure white with spiteful red eyes, reminding them all of a homunculus. Bristles adorned the creature and its misshapen jaw opened and closed as it seemed to be actually thinking about what was going on. Its long claw tipped forelimbs twitched and moved as one would expect a human's own rather than a beast.

"She summoned a beast?" The haughty woman scoffed. "Of course she would. Of course she wouldn't summon a proper servant. I told you to give me the command seals."

Old Man Acht spoke up, "The summoning is complete. We should be thankful we were able to summon something."

"No," the woman snarled and walked forward. She grabbed Hilda's arm with the command seals on it. "This will not due! I demand you relinquish this creature onto-"

She never got to finish. The servant snapped its jaws forward with the speed you'd imagine a striking viper. The woman was thrashed twice before being thrown right into the side of the house. With her torso a bleeding mess and several broken bones from the throw, she was surely dead. The servant scooped Hilda up into its arms and gave a feral roar at the rest of the people gathered. The roar was unnatural. It was artificial yet terrifying.

Old Man Acht smirked, "Does anyone else wish to take it away from the homunculus?" When no one answered, he looked to HIlda. "Calm your servant."

Hilda gulped and patted the creature, "It's okay. It's okay. I'm safe."

The creature looked down at her, confused about everything at the moment. Then it set her down and growled. It seemed intelligent yet feral. Hilda gulped as she put a calming hand on its snout, "I'm your master, Berserker."

* * *

Yakuza stared at the being before him. If he had anything to think, he thought about the possibility of his Uncle played a joke on him. This creature before him reminded him of the Crest Worms and seemed fitting for his family. It was insectoid with lightish green skin. It's large red eyes seemed to glare at everything around it. It wore a purple, striped shirt of sorts, black gloves and boots that run up most of its arms and legs, and pink collar and upper arm clothes. On its back was a light grey, pink dotted round machine of sorts. Its antenna twitched. He was surprised this creature only had four limbs, but it was a servant. They were supposed to be strange.

"You!" The creature shrieked, showing off its pointed teeth and crooked red tongue. "You Earth Monkey! Are you the master of the great Rider of this war?! Are you?!"

"Yes, I-"

"Are you?!"

"I-"

"Are you?!"

Yakuza paused for a moment and scratched his head. He simply nodded this time.

This seemed to calm the servant, who crossed his arms. "I can't believe an irken of my stature has to work for such a disgusting earth monkey but for the Tallest, I will have to make due."

* * *

Fumio simply raised an eyebrow as he looked over his servant for this war. Before him was not a human. It was an elvish woman with skin blue as if she was a corpse. Her eyes glowed red with clear spite with small triangular markings below them. Her pants hugged her shapely legs with interwoven armor in them. Her top barely did anything to cover her large bust and her midriff was bare. Her purple gloves and pauldrons were the only armor on her arms as the rest were bare as well. A red cloak was over her head, billowing out behind her.

She took a step forward and looked at him curiously, "I am servant Archer of this war. Are you my Master?" When he gave a simple nod, she scoffed. "Then the contract is complete. Do be a good boy and try not to disappoint me."

Her tone and manner bespoke of royalty. A snide and selfish royalty. He simply bowed his head, "I will do my best."

* * *

Signy's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the servant before her. The woman before her only wore tight black clothes with her top only hiding barely half of her chest. Her midriff was bare and she only wore one long black glove. Her long boots seemed to look like she was walking on skulls. Her light blue hair seemed to be made of up fire and her skin was ghostly white. Black markings swirled around her green eyes. A strange stringed instrument, sort of similar to a banjo but longer and looked more like purple and blue flames in design was held in her hands.

"So I take it you're my master, eh?" The servant spoke with a cocky tone. Signy simply nodded. "I'm the Caster of this war and you better remember my name!"

Signy grinned, "Oh I think I will."

* * *

Peter wasn't one to judge a person on their appearance. He wasn't and he would never try to. It was rude and stupid. Yet when he thought of summoning a servant for the Holy Grail War, he thought it was supposed to be impressive. Instead, well…

The woman before him looked like a mix match. Her pinkish eyes were of different colors and depths. Her hair was one side pink and white while the other was black. She wore a black and white suited dress of sorts with high heels. The white dress shirt was unbuttoned enough that he could clearly see the rather small servant's, who only came up to his chest, own chest. It was rather fine~ She twirled a pink umbrella behind her.

Peter gulped and stepped forward, "So you're Assassin, right?" She nodded, smiling her rather creepy and carefree smile. "Then I'm your master." She seemed happy enough with that information.

* * *

Salali could only stare in wide and teary eyed amazement as she looked at her servant. Before was an extremely elegant and powerful being. She emanated importance. Her long head mask was slim and betrayed nothing of her true face. Her flowing robes were etched with strange words she could not make out. In her hands was a long staff with bladed points at each end. It seemed to humm, filled with power. On her back were strange, arcing wings of sorts. They didn't move so she didn't know why she had them. A long cape billowed out behind her, etched again with those strange symbols.

"I am servant Lancer," the woman's voice was off yet so beautiful. "Are you my master of this war, monkeigh?" When she nodded, the servant sighed in despair. "To work for a monkeigh child. How low I have fallen."

That's when Salali could hear the shouting. She screamed in fear as it wasn't her own people and hid behind Lancer, "Please… please don't let them get me."

Lancer seemed confused before a couple of Union soldiers walked into the tent. One of them sneered, "Looks like we missed a couple of the savages. Guess we'll have to-urk."

Lancer skewered the two men before they could do anything more. It was so quick that Salali had almost missed it, "It would seem that this isn't a safe location for you. We'll head off." Salali quickly nodded and followed Lancer.

Unfortunately, eight more Union troops were waiting not far from them. One of them shouted and pointed right at them, causing the troopers to prepare their arms and fire. Lancer deflected every bullet with ease and again her speed and finesse were incredibly impressive. She slashed and sliced through them so quickly yet so beautifully that Salali almost thought of it as a small dance. Another trooper, this time mounted, tried to run her down. She simply side stepped and stabbed him, throwing him several feet away with a large hole in his chest.

"Such simple creatures," she huffed and then turned to her. "Come child. We have places to be."

Salali again followed. She was safe with this strange woman. Maybe she even had a chance of winning.

* * *

 **A simple chapter to showcase the summoned servants. I hope you enjoyed it and you're free to guess who they all are. Else, leave a comment as they are very much appreciated. Until next time, take care.**


	4. Chapter 4

Patrick rode his horse through the woods without really paying much attention to the nature around him. He'd grown up in this sort of environment so nothing really fazed him. As well, it had been a while since he'd been able to enjoy any of it. As a kid, even as a young man, he loved to sit back and take a look at the natural world. It was just so lovely and interesting. Now however it was just dull and lifeless to him.

What hurt however was to see the looks of astonishment his servant would give now and again. She was a young woman, barely into her adulthood. Yet her eyes seemed to hold such anguish and grief. He hated seeing that in a face that young. It didn't help that she found such lush green surprising. He couldn't help but wonder what she had been through to make a normal summer's day seem like a miracle.

"So this country is the United States," Saber called out to him. For the past few hours, she had been asking a number of questions. He tried to quickly answer them in as few words as possible. He wasn't sure if he wanted to bond with his servant or not since she was probably going to die one way or another. "And it is fighting a war with itself?"

Patrick nodded, "The basic gist of it, yeah."

"And it's all because of slavery?"

Patrick frowned, "I said there were other reasons for the war happening, little miss."

Saber scoffed, "It doesn't matter. Slavery should be stopped. It is evil. End of story."

"Life isn't so cut and dry," Patrick looked back at her. "Didn't you learn that in your world?"

"My world is pretty much dead," Saber looked away, gripping the reigns of her horse in frustration and anger. "I only ever learned to kill and defend whoever I could."

"Sorry to hear that," Patrick said. "But this war isn't as black and white as yours. Still, my wish doesn't have anything to do with a war that won't last another year."

"And what do you wish for?"

Patrick was silent for a moment, "What do you wish for?"

"To defeat Grima," Saber said without thought. "To restore my world to how it was before that damned devil took over and slaughtered my people. I will stop at nothing to accomplish that."

Patrick gave a tired chuckle, "My wish isn't so grand." He sighed as he moved on, "I want to bring back my son. I lost him in this damn war."

"Oh," Saber quietly said, bowing her head in respect. "I am sorry to hear that. I will double my efforts to win this war then, for your son's sake."

Patrick quirked an eyebrow, "Aren't you a noble lady."

Saber smiled, "Thank you. My father taught me to be so when he was alive. I wish to follow in his footsteps and… see him again one day."

"I guess we both we'll be seeing ghosts soon enough," Patrick chuckled. Perhaps this wasn't going to be that bad after all.

* * *

Off in another part of the country, a much larger caravan was making its move. The soldiers were none other than that of the Confederate States Army. Of course, given the state of the war, they didn't move in large numbers. There were several small segments scattered about but still within enough distance to quickly come to the aid of the others.

Within one of the groups, a master was among them. Peter Jackson recalled the way he was trained over the last few days by some vampire. It had been excruciating especially since he wasn't exactly the most powerful magus in the war. He was a good soldier to be true, but his mage skills were lacking. Which is why he would need to be careful with how he used Assassin who also wasn't the most powerful in the war. That couldn't be helped of course.

What got him wasn't the creepy vampire that had trained him nor the responsibility that the young nation had put on him. That weighed a lot but weight wasn't the issue. The issue was rather petite and clinging to his back. His face was a shade of red as he rode on, noting that she seemed to enjoy pushing her bountiful breasts on his back.

He had grown to hate the vampire. Before he departed, he had let them know that a servant could get power and heal their injuries with sexual actions. Since Patrick wasn't the strongest mage, he made it out that he needed to do that a lot. That had bothered him. Not his servant of course. She found it amusing and started to tease him quite a bit as they went on.

"Y-You don't have to push so tightly against me," Patrick gulped, stuttering as Assassin pushed her chest further into his back at his comment. It was hard dealing with her since she was rather good at her type of teasing. "It… It is indecent."

"Oh come off it," one of the nearby soldiers, a gruff and elderly fellow known as Pete. "Just let the cute girl have some fun. You're gonna be facing some bad competition if'n this war is what it's made out to be. I say enjoy her."

Assassin gave the man a thumbs up, which made Patrick sigh and the nearby soldiers to laugh. It was hard knowing what Assassin was thinking at times given that she was mute but when he did understand, it usually wasn't going to end well for him.

He needed to focus on something other then her chest. So he started to think on the war. Assassin wasn't one he would eagerly send out to fight a fair fight. As much as the former infantry man hated it, they needed to use underhanded tactics. Killing the master would do, but it rankled him greatly. They were men of honor, not one of those spineless northern bastards. Still, to save his people he needed to win no matter how he did it.

He let out a small yep as he felt one of Assassin's hands move downwards. He grabbed it and put it back around his chest, "Assassin!"

The way she was moving behind me told me that if she could, she'd be laughing. I groaned. This was going to be a long war.

* * *

Hilde the homunculus idly stroked her halberd as she strolled through the forest. While a horse would have taken her farther and quicker, keeping one close to her servant wouldn't work. She had eaten two already so Hilde had opted to walk on foot. It wouldn't bother her. She was a homunculus. She could walk quite a bit of a distance before tiring. Besides, her human masters had put her through worse.

It unnerved her to be out and about by herself, even if she had a servant. She had always been by her sister's side. She had always had a human looming over her, telling her what to do. There was always the same fear and pain that was present every day. In a strange and sick way, that had become comforting. Yet now she was on her own. Her master's hadn't come to America with her since they didn't want to draw unneeded attention to themselves. As well, the war between the states housed a number of magus that could stand in their way. They wouldn't take kindly to European powers messing with their war.

She wasn't a concern however. She was just a homunculus. She was nothing to them. She gripped her halberd tightly. That was okay with her. That was what she was made for. Their usage. For some reason, just thinking about that made her grip her halberd even tighter. She didn't know why.

That's when she felt breath on her back. She yelped and turned around. Her servant was visible now. She was thankful it could turn invisible when it wanted to, although that surprised her masters. That seemed more like an Assassin like skill but this was an animal, they thought. The servant's large eyes bore down on her. They were still unsure of what it is, but one of them thought it was some kind of strange dinosaur. A term that hadn't been in use that long. To her thought, it was simply Berserker.

She gulped and tried to remain calm but failing miserably. She shook as she stared at the violent looking creature, "Ummm… I'm alright, Berserker. Nothing to fear now." Berserker snorted and stood up. Its size easily dwarfed anything on the continent and exuded an aura of power the likes of which earth hadn't seen for millions of years. "W-We'll find the other servants and masters soon, so don't worry about it. Is… Is that alright?"

Berserker was just an animal to her masters, yet the more she looked at it, the more she could feel something more intelligent within. So when Berserker looked at her for a moment and gave a slight nod, she took it as a yes. That's when it shimmered and went back into its invisible form. She knew that it used a bit more energy to keep it like that, but for now, she had to. She couldn't let anyone see Berserker. Not yet.

* * *

Signy scowled as she adjusted her armor. It was far too hot for her liking. Her armor was designed for the colder climate. While yes, they had given her armor that would due her better in warmer climates, it still didn't help that she preferred the cold of her homeland. Oh yes, they had summers and they were quite hot but not this hot. She didn't voice these complaints however. She was a nord. She was amongst her warriors. She had to be tough. That and she had something else that was on her mind.

Caster was hovering as she travelled with them. She was usually playing a few small songs on her stringed instrument she called a guitar when she wasn't riding it herself. Signy wasn't sure if she cared for most of the songs since they felt too… heavy for her tastes. Still they weren't unpleasant especially her signature song. "This is soooo boring." Caster huffed. "When are we going to actually do something?"

"I feel your pain, Caster." Signy sighed as she patted her sword. "My sword thirsts for action but we have to find our prey first. This is a big country after all so it isn't like we're just going to bump into our quarry on a whim."

"I know," Caster rolled her eyes. "I know, but seriously? I've been in this country before and it's never this hard to find trouble. America basically thrives off of it." She tapped her chin, "Although, the Fenton Portal made it quite easy to find that Danny boy."

"Well we're not dealing with that 'Danny boy' now are we?"

Caster smirked, "Oh no we aren't." She cackled and stroked her guitar lovingly. The ghost servant seemed delighted by that fact. "He won't get in the way of my plans this time. Now there's no way I'm going to lose this war."

* * *

What none of them knew was that they were on a path to the war sooner than they thought they'd be as a wicked cackle filled the forest.

* * *

 **Short chapter I know but I thought it would be good to stop here. Don't you worry. Next chapter will have the start of the first battle in this Holy Grail War. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please leave a comment as they are very much appreciated and help me to improve.**


	5. Chapter 5

Lancer was a proud member of the Eldar race. They were indeed the greatest of the races, created by the Old Ones themselves. None of the other kinds of sapients in the galaxy could hope to match their magnificence. Even long after the fall of the Eldar empire, they still held their heads up high. They were proud to be Eldar. Anything less was filth. So that is why she was not exactly happy with her situation.

She had been summoned into a war between filthy Mon-keigh. This was unforgivable. More so because it was all for a warp damned wish granting device. She had her reservations about that. It wasn't just because it was made by Mon-Keigh. They were shoddy in all their creations. No, it was mostly because of how magic as they referred to it was tricky to work with. A part of her wanted to destroy the device and make sure that no one could get their hands on it.

Yet… a small part of her wanted to see the salvation of her people. To bring them back to greatness. Even… even, she dared to hope, to reverse the creation of Slaanesh. That was a fool's hope. She was not sure if it was strong enough to do that, but there was still a hope. She could make the Eldar great again.

A sniffle reminded her of her charge. Looking back, she could see the tired form of the small Mon-Keigh she had to worry about. Now that was something she could never get used to. Salali was her name, she believed. A pitiful thing, yet she needed the small child to win this war. Otherwise she would disappear. That was not an option for her. She had to protect her, even if that sickened her.

"Are you still crying, child?" She said with an icey tone.

Salali flinched at the tone, "I just… remembered my family." She rubbed a hand over her eyes to wipe away the tears.

Lancer sighed, "The dead are not our concern, child. We have much more pressing issues at hands. The sooner you realize that, the easier my job becomes."

Salali sniffed, "I… I just don't know what to do."

"That is obvious," Lancer stopped at turned completely around to stare down at her. "You are a simple Mon-Keigh. Most from my world would revel in their ignorance. You do not strike me as anything different."

Salali held her face downwards, "I am different."

"We shall see, child." Lancer knew this war was going to be difficult. A child would not make the right choices. A child would panic. A child could very well ruin her chances for victory. Perhaps she should find a new master. Although, a child was also susceptible to manipulation. It wouldn't be hard to get the human child to do what she wanted.

Salali moved her head to look her in the eyes. Lancer saw a bit of a spark of determination in them, "I am different. You'll see. I'll win this war and get my wish. Then everything will be good again."

Lancer stared at her from inside her mask. She gave a simple nod. This Mon-Keigh could prove useful after all. She'd have to try and mold her into something worthwhile, of course. "If you are determined enough, then hopefully it will be so." She would have said more, but that's when she felt it. "Mon-Keigh, I want you to stay hidden. Things are about to get dangerous and I don't want my only tether to this realm severed so quickly."

Salali gulped in fear and nodded, "Right." With that, she hid herself amongst the trees.

Lancer hoped that would be enough. She stood there vigilantly, waiting for her opponent. Oh she knew he was coming, far further then when she could hear him or her. She would be ready for them. Soon they would face the might of a Farseer. That's when she heard something zooming through the forest.

Out from the forest, two pulses of energy came rushing towards her. She sidestepped both of them with her agility, before the racing form of a strange, purple flying contraption came flying right towards her. It shot out several other bolts of energy, which she deflected with her lance. Just as it came to her, she jumped over it and got into a battle position. The flying machine turned around, pointing its cannons at her. The canopy opened and two rather strange individuals resided inside.

The first was a filthy human. His twisted smile, unkept hair, and sharp teeth reminded her of a chaos cultist. The way his eyes seemed to pierce her visage only confirmed that. Thankfully, she sensed no chaos taint on him. That much she was thankful for.

However, his companion was what had her attention. He, at least she thought it was a he, was a green xenos of some sort. He was short, had antenna like a bug as well as the red pupil-less eyes. His sharp teeth seemed to be pulled back into a sneer, as though he thought she was not worthy of his presence. Funny, he wasn't worthy of hers.

"May I take it you are Rider?" She asked.

"Do not think to call Rider, Rider!" The xenos screamed in a shrill voice that made her want to skewer him. "The mighty Zim will not be asked questions. Only I ask the questions, Earth Monkey!"

Behind her helmet, she was scowling. How dare he compare her to the Mon-Keigh. Oh he was dying here today. "Then we shall talk no more."

"You foolish fool!" The xenos cried out. "I am a Rider! My machines will stomp you and this world will fall to the Irken Empire."

"Just a moment, Rider~" The human's sickening voice spoke up. He jumped out of the small purple flying machine. "I've just go to do something. You kill, Lancer is it?"

Lancer didn't give him any answer. Instead, she used her great speed to try and get to him. Killing a master would help get rid of an enemy servant. However, Rider had other plans. He shot out several blasts. Most of them missed, although she was forced to stop to defend herself from one. When she did, she saw the human had left. She scowled and blocked two more blasts.

"Fall now before the might of Zim!" Rider cackled and the canopy of his machine closed. She was thankful for that. She didn't know what she would do if she had to listen to his voice the whole fight.

* * *

Peter Jackson and his forces made their way through the forest. However, the jovial tone of the expedition was gone. Now everyone was hesitant. They were on edge. They knew something was wrong with the air around them. The years of fighting with the Yankees had installed in them a wariness. A number of them patted their weapons to ensure themselves that they had what it took to fight.

He felt Assassin tap his shoulder. He looked around and saw her concern. He gave her a smile, "It's nothing. Just soldier instinct. It's just… too quiet."

Assassin nodded as she looked around. There weren't any birds or any other creature's making noises around them. Everything was dead silent. That was never a good sign. In her own world, that surely mean that the Grimm were nearby. Thankfully, they weren't on this world.

The pair of them turned their heads when they heard something blow up nearby. The soldiers reacted with alarm as they readied their weapons. Several sergeants tried to get some order in the soldiers as they readied for what was to come. That was when Peter felt something. It was a challenge.

Peter looked back at Assassin who looked on with determination. They both nodded, "Soldiers! This is a battle between servants. You aren't to interfere until I come back and give the order. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." They said back in return.

Peter smiled at them as he gathered his own courage. He was about to race into the unknown. A duel between beings not of this world. Yet, as he looked as Assassin, he knew he stood a chance. He urged his horse onwards, charging forth into the fray. Just another day during the Civil War.

* * *

Archer despised her master. Oh it wasn't that he was human. No, it was because he was alive. He breathed, ate, and slept as every living thing did in the world. She envied that. It reminded her of what she had once. Oh how she longed to crush it all under her bootheel one day. Make them experience the pain she went through. That was for when she got her hands on the Holy Grail.

Of course, that had to wait till she dealt with the other servants. Thankfully for her, their search didn't take them too long. The sound of explosions told her enough that someone was fighting. It could have been the humans of this United States fighting their stupid civil war, yet the energy she felt told a different story. Oh yes, those were definitely servants.

"It appears that someone wants us to fight them," Fumio spoke up. "A master has set up a beacon."

"So let's not keep them waiting them," Archer spoke as she took out her bow and arrow. Someone would die today. She was going to make sure of it.

* * *

Hilda gulped as she heard her servant growling. She was certainly a deep growler which set her nerves afire with fear. She just hoped she wouldn't roar. That sound was utterly terrifying. "Umm," she spoke up to her large servant. Berserker leaned down to her level which made her even more nervous. "Do you sense some nearby servants?"

Berserker simply growled in anger, before they heard some explosions. Hilda yelped and hid underneath Berserker's shadow. While her servant was extremely fierce, that just meant that no one would pick on her if she was under her shadow. At least she hoped they wouldn't.

The servant of madness on the other hand just made a blood curdling roar in response. It shook Hilda to the core and reminded her of the ferocity of those under the guise of Berserker. This was a servant to be feared above all else. Hilda shivered as she felt something. A call to action from another master.

Her instincts instilled in her from her birth kicked in as she gripped her halberd. She looked on towards the signal's origin, "Let us go, Berserker. If we deal with them quickly, we can escape before the other servants come running. You know, pick them off?"

Berserker simply roared again and ran. She sighed and ran after her. Hopefully Berserker would listen to her. That was unlikely, but Hilda could hope.

* * *

Signy was seething. It wasn't that long into the war, but she had not yet been able to draw her blade yet. She was itching for a fight, but there was no one around for her to do anything. She could tell her servant was equally getting tired of the mundane chore of walking through forest after forest with how she grumpily looked about the area.

"Okay, I have got to start shredding some tunes soon." Caster growled. "Because I am getting sick and tired of all these trees. Give me some good city and fans to work with, master. In a day, I'll have more power to blow them all up!"

"Not yet," Signy spoke up. "We shall gauge the enemies out first and then try that out once we find a suitable town. Until then-" Their conversation was cut short when an explosion happened in the distance. "Please let it be someone I can kill."

Caster grinned, "Here we go, Master. The fight we've been both itching for."

Signy smirked, even more so when she felt the call to action from an enemy master. "Oh yes, Caster. They will regret facing us."

* * *

Patrick and Saber looked off at the distance, gazing at the direction of the explosions. Patrick sighed. He knew he shouldn't go towards the fighting. He should wait until they wear themselves out and then strike. Of course, given how close they were, they might as well try something. Other masters would feel them and make a move.

"They are goading us into attacking," Saber spoke up. "We should face them now and take them unawares."

"You mean charge in?" Patrick chuckled and patted his guns. "I both hate and love the idea and with how much magic I think we both sense from that area, a lot of other masters think so too. I can't miss the opportunity to thin the competition."

Saber grinned and drew her sword, "Let's not keep the enemy waiting then." With that said, she rushed off. This time on her foot. She certainly could run faster then any human. Must have came with being a heroic spirit.

Patrick laughed and drew his pistols, "Right behind you!" He'd show the enemy some good ol' fashioned gun work.

* * *

 **Sorry for the long delay. I didn't have a lot of drive to continue this story for a while and some writer's block. Thankfully, I got past it so I should be able to post more frequent. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please leave a comment. They are greatly appreciated. Until next time, take care.**


	6. Chapter 6

Lancer was finding her opponent extremely annoying. His small aerial cruiser was agile and quick, making hitting it hard to manage. Even so, this opponent lived up to the name 'Rider'. She struck it a few times thus far and so far she had only left some grooves in the machine. She wasn't too worried about it. Rider didn't seem too powerful. She could wait it out and bide her time to make the lethal strike. That of course meant she would leave her master by herself for an extended period of time and she did not trust the look of Rider's master.

"Hahahah," Rider laughed as he opened his canopy again. "Foolish Earth monkey. Fall before the might of the great Rider!"

Lancer gripped her spear just a bit tighter, "How many times do I have to tell you, Rider. I am not an Earth monkey."

"But you all look alike," Rider scoffed. "Do not think you can fool the great Rider who is Zim! The Tallest anointed me their favored invader and I will show you why."

"You have not impressed me thus far," Lancer taunted. Perhaps if she goaded him he would make a mistake. He seemed the type to easily goad.

She was right as he just snarled at her, "Enough. You'll die now." With that he closed the canopy and fired at her again.

Lancer blocked the blows as she twirled her spear. Rider was predictable and if the fight kept going as it was, she was certain she could kill him. It would be so satisfying to shut his infernal mouth up once and for all. She'd revel in it until she had to kill the rest. Then she could finally get this Grail for herself for one conclusion or another. Her lightning powers wouldn't work on the machine, at least not in short bursts. Perhaps if she used her psychic abilities to kill him but she didn't want to chance getting her mind corrupted with whatever lay inside that insane monster's head.

Rider charged and Lancer met him head on. Rider fired thrice, each blocked by Lancer's spear, before they came close to each other. Lancer arced her spear to slice into the canopy but Rider was quick on the draw. He pulled his machine away. Her bladed weapon dug into the bottom and just as he looked to get away, she slashed at the back of the machine. This caused it to tilt and putter in the air as it moved, crashing through a tree. It remained in the air, shaking now.

"You actually thought your little tricks could stop Zim?" Rider's hideous laugh could be heard inside the machine. "Don't make me laugh. Irken tech is far too advanced to be felled by such stupid weapons. Now prepare- AHHHHHHHHH!"

Before either of them could respond, a large white dinosaur appeared almost out of thin air as it charged. It's large mouth took hold of Rider's machine. Shaking it's head like a dog would a newly captured prey item, Rider was heard screaming from the motions. The dinosaur clawed at the machine before bringing it to the ground. Then it lifted and then slammed it down again. Two more times before the canopy broke. Rider jumped out of the machine, hurriedly trying to get away from the beast.

Lancer didn't make any movements. This wasn't just some normal beast. This was a servant. If she had to guess, this was none other than Berserker. She doubted it could be any of the others. It radiated mad killing intent. She let Rider be for a moment. If she made to move against him, then she would draw Berserker's attention and she didn't know its abilities yet.

Finally the creature let go of the machine and turned to them. Its eyes… Its eyes glowed with deadly precision. Lancer was assured of her observation. This was none other then Berserker, which meant she was probably dealing with the most physically strong servant in the war. This was both a good and bad thing. Good in that its madness would keep it from being that great of a tactician so she could outhink it. Bad because if it managed to land any hits, she wasn't sure if she could take them. Eldar armor or not, this Grail war would show quite a few things weren't so easy to take down.

Berserker's eyes locked onto her. It's, no, her nostrils flared as it took in her scent. She was a farseer. Discerning a creature's gender wasn't that hard anyways. The creature growled before giving an eerie scream of a roar that filled everyone with dread. Lancer steeled herself as the creature abandoned Rider's machine and charged at her with impressive speed.

Quickly lifting a hand towards Berserker, Lancer let out a stream of lightning. The lightning arced across Berserker. No doubt it caused the creature no small amount of pain but its path wasn't deterred. Truly it was a Berserker as all it cared about was crushing it's opponent.

Lancer twirled out of the way of the servant of madness, slashing at its side. Berserker let out a roar and turned, readying herself for another charge. The beast charged again and snapped at her. Lancer backed away and slashed at the muzzle. Berserker pulled back before the blow could land and slashed out with her claws. Lancer blocked the swipes with her spear. Berserker pushed her backwards as she was most certainly stronger than Lancer. Her next snap of those big jaws forced her to take a big leap back. She would need to think of something to deal with this threat.

Lancer was greatful her senses were far superior to any creature alive. For if they weren't, she probably would have died right then and there. She could hear the whizzing of an arrow and she brought up her spear to deflect it. As the arrow hit the spear right dab in the middle, it exploded with magic which sent Lancer flying. Berserker roared as she dodged an arrow, going invisible again.

Rider laughed. His hands were up as though he had shot Lancer himself, "Ha! You stupid Earth monkey. You see how futile you are? Blown away by a stupid arrow. The mighty Zim would-"

A sword went through his head, cutting off the rest of his speech. Sneaking up behind him was none other then the servant of the shadows, Assassin herself. The small woman smirked as she retracted her sword. One servant down. Five more to go. Her eyes widened as she heard something coming up behind her. She turned around and parried the sword meant to slice her in two. She pushed it back and jumped backwards.

Before her was a blue clad woman. Given the sword and her stature, it could be none other then Saber. This didn't look good for her. She was a competent fighter but against a Saber class servant? She would have to play this smart. Saber didn't give her the time to come up with a strategy as she struck, slashing at Assassin with skill and grace befitting the servant of the sword.

Archer smirked as she watched the servants fight amongst each other. She may not have killed Lancer but it would show that servant of the lance a thing or two. She hoped it hurt. Looking over Rider and what was probably Berserker, she didn't have much to fear. Now that Assassin and Saber had joined the fray, that feeling doubled. They were all pathetic in her eyes. This was the lot the Holy Grail could muster? She had faced worse. They were maggots and she was going to crush them. Now she just had to wait and deal with Caster.

A loud cacophany of harsh music blasted the air. Archer jumped out of the way before an energy wave smashed into where she was. She held her bow at the ready, turned, and then fired.

Another wave of energy knocked the arrow away. Floating above her was a flaming bluish ghost woman. Her ragad clothing and strange shaped string instrument reminded her of some Forsaken who had taken to that sort of dress. Still, this wasn't the type of being she could tread lightly. This was a ghost and if her experiences had taught her anything, this was most certainly the deadliest opponent in her eyes.

"Yo elf gal," Caster grinned down at her. "Or should I call you zombie? Either way, digging the outfit. You rock it, girl."

"I thank you for the compliments," Archer hesitantly spoke. "But I don't think it prudent to talk with my enemy."

"Where's the fun in that," Caster's grin turned bloodthirsty. "Don't you want to make your last moments a bit of fun?"

With that she strummed her instrument, creating a large wave of energy that raced towards her. She fired an arrow but Caster blocked it with more magic. Archer barely dodged it before Caster threw her instrument down and started to ride it. The action made Archer paused just long enough for Caster to race right at her and hit her with a bolt of green energy. The energy blast wasn't strong enough to kill her outright, but it really hurt and sent her flying.

Caster laughed and followed, "Now let's see what makes you tick!"

However her assault was stopped when she caught Lancer launching herself at her. Caster fired a bolt of green energy from her hands, which forced Lancer to twirl out of the way and land on the ground. Caster was quick to act on the motion. Using her momentum, she got close to Lancer as she moved her instrument back into her hands and played a loud strum. The large blast smacked into Lancer, throwing her off her feet. Caster smirked as she readied another spell before an arrow embedded itself into her arm and exploded, sending her flying sideways.

"Do not forget me, ghost." Archer snarled as she readied another arrow. Her eyes widened as she jumped out of the way. Berserker's claws missed her by a hair's breadth. The servant of madness roared and chased after the servant of the bow.

Assassin and Saber were still going at it. Saber was having a bit of difficulty dealing with the servant of the shadows. As was expected, her fighting style wasn't standard for an upfront battler. Instead she flashed an arrogant smile as she kept getting out of her range and trying to stab her.

Saber kept her from doing that, trying to press the advantage. She was getting closer with each passing moment. The only really frustrating thing was that she was sure she had landed a blow or two yet Assassin seemed fine. Such as when she slipped her sword underneath her guard and passed it along Assassin's belly. It should have gutted her yet she felt some force block it. Perhaps the servant had a shielding noble phantasm or something. Either way, she would end this fight soon.

The fight came to an end when two green blasts of energy slammed into Assassin, forcing her to reel away. The servant of the shadows quickly got to her feet and hopped into a battle stance before her eyes widened.

Rider was glaring at her, "Did you think a filthy Earth Monkey could kill ME?!" He seemed to like shouting as the four mechanical legs shot out blasts of energy from their tips. Assassin blocked two and dodged the rest. Her sword deflected a few but it was obvious she had to get out of the way soon.

Saber would have none of this. She may not be fond of Assassins but this creature was pure evil. She had to stop it. Saber gave a battle cry and charged Rider. Rider turned the blasts towards her, but her sword Falchion easily allowed her to block each one with a precision strike. Then she got into striking range. Rider proved that his robotic limbs weren't for just shooting when the dagger like tips blocked her strikes. Rider's smirk just made her all the more furious with the servant of the steed.

Assassin didn't catch a break. The moment Saber made her attack, Assassin had to dodge Berserker's charge. The servant of madness snapped and slashed at her but she kept backflipping out of his reach each and every time. Then she smirked and stopped. She pulled out her sword and moved it forward in time with Berserker's thrust, driving the sword right into its upper snout.

Berserker roared in pain and pulled away from the sword. Assassin's victory was short lived as Berserker moved quickly and slapped her with a backhanded swing. She was sent flying into the air. It was only due to her own intensive training did she see Lancer try to stab her. Assassin flipped herself in the air and landed on the spear.

She smirked and jabbed her sword right at Lancer's head. Lancer moved her head back to avoid the strike. However, the sword bit into her armored helmet and slashed it in two. A now helmetless Lancer scowled and before Assassin could react, she was sent flying by Lancer flipping her spear over.

Archer was paying too much attention to trying to down Caster that she didn't notice Assassin smash right into her. The two servants rolled on the ground for a moment before sitting up. Their momentary confusion turned into a deathly glare as they looked at each other.

"Are you going to kiss or am I going to finally kill you now?" Caster called down as they gazed up at her. She smirked as she readied another spell. "Time for the finale."

* * *

As the servants fought with each other, the masters were no different. Yakuza was laughing as he watched the servants fight. A large part of him didn't even care if he won the war anymore. Just seeing all of these awesome servants battle each other was priceless. Oh he hoped there would be some blood and gore. Berserker especially seemed like the type that could give him some needed pleasurable sights. "Come on. Kill each other."

"Don't mind if I do," a voice called out.

Yakuza's eyes widened before he turned. Two knives, one in each hand were at the ready and blocked the saber from cutting into him. Before him was a confederate soldier, "Ohohoho, a boy in gray? I thought you guys lost the war already."

"Not even close!" The soldier pulled away before striking to hit him in the center. Yakuza knocked the strike to the side and tried to slash him. The soldier pulled away and got into a battle position. "Colonel Peter Jackson is my name. Yours?"

"Yakuza Matou," he grinned. "I'll remember yours when I put it on your tombstone." His eyes widened before he threw a knife to his right side. A japanese man knocked it aside with his katana as he charged. Yakuza growled as he tried to slash the man who blocked all his strikes. "Figures a Tohsaka would come and ruin my fun."

"You are nothing more then slime," Ymio Tohsaka scowled. His strikes earning a few cuts on Yakuza's arms. "You are an insult to all magus and to the human race. It will be my pleasure to take you down."

"Fat chance," Yakuza snarled as he knew he was on the defensive. For now at least.

Peter was watching the pair fight. He wasn't sure about what to do, whether he should attack now or wait for one to kill the other. Either way, he was content to watch for the time being. That is until a bullet passed over his shoulder. It only grazed him but he still winced and turned around. His eyes widened before he glared at the being, "You!"

Patrick grinned as he held his pistols out at him, "Good to see you again kid. Sorry it had to be along these circumstances."

"Traitor," Peter took a step forward with his saber at the ready. "You abandoned your post. You left us. I'll kill you for that."

Patrick snorted, "The war's lost, little Peter. You guys just don't know when to give up."

Peter didn't say another word. He just gave a war cry and charged. Patrick shot at him but Peter's reflexes and simple magecraft allowed him to see the trajectory and block the bullets with his sword. Patrick jumped back to get out of the way of his swing. Peter tried an overhead strike, but Patrick used his gun to intercept the strike. He moved his other pistol to shoot at him but Peter freed his left hand and knocked Patrick's right aside.

Both of them ducked when a large polarmed weapon tried to slice them in half. They straightened up to see a pale but lovely maid standing near them with a large two handed silver axe in her grip. She glared at them as she readied for combat.

Back with Tohsaka and Matou, Yakuza threw more daggers at Yumio. He dodged the blades as Yakuza grinned wickedly and snatched up another set. Yakuza blocked the strikes and lashed out. He nicked Yumio's abdomen but didn't get anything permanent. He chided himself for not bringing his poison blades but he'd change that later. As Yumio made to slash Yakuza's midsection, Yakuza jumped back a few times before stopping.

"Oh you're good~" Yakuza laughed. "I'm going to enjoy eating you-ooof!"

A round wooden shield smashed into Yakuza's side, sending him flying into the forest. Yumio turned to see a beautiful but powerful looking norse woman step into view. She smiled as she called back her shield to her with magecraft. Securing it, she took out her sword.

"You impressed me, swordsman." Signy spoke. "You will be truly the powerful opponent I was hoping to meet in this Holy Grail War."

Yumio steeled himself. Her form told him she'd be a difficult opponent. "I hope I can match up to your standards." With that he boosted his speed and thrusted himself forward, swordpoint at the head of the strike. Yumio's eyes widened as Signy blocked it with her shield.

Signy pushed him back, "Impressive speed, but not enough to kill me so easily." She yelled and charged, slashing and clashing with the samurai.

A bit off from the now fighting duo, Yakuza sat up. He grumbled angrily as he rubbed the sore spot where she struck him with her shield. If he hadn't have used magecraft on his clothes to strengthen them, he no doubt would not be able to move right now. "Stupid warrior ass girl. I'm going to cut her up."

That's when he heard something rustling nearby. He turned and caught the sight of a little native american girl. When he did, his eyes sparkled. He licked his lips, "Hello, little girl."

She queaked in fright and moved away from him.

Yakuza quickly got up, "Wait, I just want to talk. Well that and cut something."

The other masters stopped in their tracks when they heard a little girl's scream. They turned to see Yakuza chasing after a little native american girl. He was cruelly laughing as she ran. He plucked a knife from one of his pockets and threw it. Unfortunately for him, a bullet smashed the blade away. He turned to see Patrick glaring at him. Yakuza snarled as he blocked the coming bullets with his knifes before he saw the other masters charging at him.

"Oh fuck this shit," he took out a few crystalized knifes and threw them at the ground in front of the masters. They blew up, forcing the masters to stop lest they get caught in the explosion. "Rider!"

Rider's beat up vehicle pulled up quickly, "HA! It seems the filthy earth monkey can't even take care of a littler earth monkey. Foolish fool! In the time you failed, I could have taken over this wretched planet."

Yakuza snarled ashe he jumped into the broken canopy, "Just get us out of here." Without another word, the duo took off.

The other masters looked about themselves and then at the little cowering girl. They sighed and walked over. Patrick was the first to her side.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

The little girl stared at him for a moment before nodding, "Yeah. Thank you for saving me."

Patrick gave her a fatherly smile, "Think nothing of it, little lady." He frowned when he looked at her hand. His eyes widened as he saw her command seals. "She's a master…"

"Dammit," Signy swore. She walked over and punched a tree, smashing it down. "I didn't sign up to fight children."

"I believe this calls for a small ceasefire," Yumio spoke. The others nodded. "Now let's call our servants back."

"Sounds like a plan," Peter was still glaring at Patrick, who didn't really seem to be bothered by the younger man's hatred.

The group quickly called out for their servants to stop. While confused, most of them complied. Well most of them except one.

"Berserker, please calm down." Hilda the homunculus spoke. The servant of madness did not listen as it charged the other servants. They jumped and rolled out of the way. All of them rolled into battle positions, ready to take down the servant right then and there. "I said stop please." The servant let out a roar and made to charge. "I said stop!" With that, a glow of red encompassed her hand and the servant.

The servant of madness stopped its rage and seemed to calm down. It looked at her in frustration before huffing and walking of a bit of a ways before laying down. It looked at the others with a tense glare, ready to snap at them if they so much as made a single move towards it.

"Now that's out of the way," Patrick spoke up. "How about we go over a few things." The others nodded. A little discussion wouldn't hurt.

* * *

 **Phew, that took longer then expected but I am happy with the result. This is probably my biggest fate battle I have written in one go so I hope it was enjoyable. I can't wait to read your feedback. Until next time, take care.**


	7. Chapter 7

The night was utterly black with nothing but the twinkling of the stars to show any light. Patrick was thankful the group had a roaring fire going. Kept most creatures, even humans away out of fear. Either of the fire or of being spotted before they could try something. It didn't mean Patrick would let his guard down. All around him were potential killers.

Whether it be a literal viking warrior. A samurai. A Confederate soldier. Even that Homunculus was a possible threat. Each one of them could and did have a good chance of killing him. Heck, even that mad man they had met earlier could very well do the same. The only odd one out was the little girl and that left a bad taste in his mouth just thinking about it. The only thing that didn't dismiss her was that she was in control of a servant and from the looks of things, her Lancer was quite powerful. The same went to everyone else's. He would need to really think long and hard before he acted. He would not lose his one wish.

"So," Signy, the viking warrior, spoke up. All of the masters, including the child, were now around the campfire. A big cup of mead was in her hand. "Who wants to start?"

"Start?" Fumio, the samurai, raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Signy took a swig from her mead. "We're in this war together. Might as well start talking about what we want. Fair is fair anyways."

Peter, the Confederate soldier, nodded. "I aint afraid of telling no stories. So long as this one," he pointed and glared at Patrick. "Don't go off shooting me in the back."

Patrick scowled. He wasn't sure if he remembered this man or not, but he was awfully familiar. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seems to be a bit of history between you two," Signy smirked. "Care to share?"

"Aint gonna talk about no traitor," Peter scowled. "He ran away when we needed him."

"We're losing this war," Patrick shot back. "My son was dead because we decided to fight and what good did that do? I don't even remember why we started this whole thing. It's all pointless."

"You're a coward," Peter stood up, looking to brawl.

"Please,' the homunculus spoke up with a slight stutter. "Don't fight."

"Kind of the point of this whole affair," Signy lifted a finger before drinking again. "Anyone want some? We brought plenty of the stuff."

"Now that I would take kindly too," Patrick nodded, thankful that Peter was now sitting down again. The others nodded, except for the kid who was still quiet. "I think I'll start. You already know about my son's fate. Died in combat."

"Bet he's lounging in Valhalla right now," Signy smiled. "Probably drowning himself in rum or hitting on a hot valkyrie I take it."

Patrick laughed, "Maybe he is, but it wasn't his time. I want to use my wish to bring him back."

"An honorable goal," Fumio said. "I have no such wish. I simply want to continue my family's journey and reach the Root of all things."

"Ah fuck the Root," Signy snorted. "That's all a load of rubbish. I just want to bring back the old gods."

"You wish to bring about another Age of Gods?" Fumio looked at her in confusion. "Do you know what that would mean for us?"

"Lots of adventuring and monsters to kill," Signy's smile turned bloodthirsty. "That and I'd love to meet Thor and do battle with him. Maybe he'd make me a Valkyrie or maybe I'd end up in Valhalla. Either way, I win."

"Not if I win first," Peter spoke up. "I want to use the Grail to win this war. The South will never lay back and be the North's prisoner again."

Patrick snorted but was cut off when Signy made a signal to zip it.

They all turned to the homunculus, who was known as Hilda. She blinked and looked around at them, "What?"

"It's your turn," Peter said.

"I…" She nervously fidgeted in place. It was rather adorable to watch. "I don't have a wish."

"Don't have a wish?" Peter looked at her incredulously. "You're in this war. You've got to have a wish."

"My master-"

"Fuck your master," Signy spat into the flames. "You've got to want something or else you wouldn't have those command seals. Don't let some bastard push you around. You've got to live life how you want or else you're nothing but a slave." She gestured a thumb at Peter, "These guys know all about that."

Peter opened his mouth but closed it. He simply scowled and crossed his arms. Patrick smirked but said nothing.

"So kid," Signy piped up again. "What's your wish?"

"I… I want my village back," the little native girl curled up into a ball as she sniffed. Thankfully she could speak and understand English. "I… just want them back."

Patrick frowned and a bit of rage went through him. He had heard stories about what soldiers did to villages that wouldn't leave American soil. None of them were pretty. Seeing a child hurt so… it made him want to shoot the bastards who made her cry.

Signy stood up and went to the little girl's side, curling an arm around her. "Shhh, it's okay. A sweet thing like you will turn out just right. You'll see your family again. I promise."

Patrick knew Signy meant more as in a new family or one in the afterlife. Both chilled him to the bone.

"Maybe we shouldn't let her participate," Fumio spoke up. "She is only a child."

"Her servant can still fight," Peter spoke up. "Why don't we just agree not to harm her and be done with it."

"Or we could let someone else have her servant," Patrick spoke up. When everyone looked at him, he shrugged. "What? It's not like any of us want a child to participate in this damn war."

"No, we do not." Fumio nodded.

"But we hell's aint gonna let each other get another servant," Peter scowled. "That'd be stupid. So it's best she just keeps it for now. We'll just work around her and deal with her servant. It's not like a servant can't just fight on their own."

"It's possible," Patrick nodded. "So we'll agree on not harming the girl. About that other fellow-"

"I'll cut his head off," Signy snarled, keeping little Salali, the native girl, company. She acted like a mother bear defending her cub. "He doesn't get to stay anywhere safe. We'll hunt him down and kill him."

"Was already planning on that, darling." Peter smirked. "He's a master anyways. Two birds with one stone."

"Then it's decided," Fumio stood up. "I think it's best we got some rest. We have a long war ahead of us."

Everyone nodded. Signy accompanied Salali to her tent. No one questioned her on that since they were sure she wouldn't do anything to the child. Patrick didn't have the highest opinion of most magi but she struck him as the honorable type. He just hoped Peter would hold that same sense of honor or he should expect someone to kill him tonight.

* * *

Saber honestly felt a little awkward as she sat around her own campfire. The masters had theirs and the servants had their own. Now she wasn't unfamiliar with the sense of sharing space with a bunch of strange individuals. That's basically how she grew up. Her family and friends were amongst the strangest people she could imagine up until now and she had loved every one of them. She'd never trade them for the world.

Now though? All of these people wanted to kill her. She had the strange and aloof elvish woman, Lancer. The undead Archer elf who looked like she hated everything around her. The mute Assassin who seemed to think everyone as a joke with her eyes. Berserker was just a straight up monster. Lastly, Caster who seemed to be too busy strumming her little instrument to care about the others.

She didn't know how to handle this situation. She had been summoned to fight and kill for the grail. Now though? She was stuck playing nice with all of her opponents. Well all but one. Rider. That little green pest had fled. She would have loved to end the servant of the steed's life as any other. Now though, she still had six opponents which meant six people who could end her life.

"So… does anyone want to start?" Saber awkwardly asked.

"That's kind of hard since two of us can't speak," Caster snorted.

Assassin held up a sign that read 'I can still write, jerk'.

Caster held up a hand, "I got it. I got it. I might not be the best person around, but I'm not going to pick on the mute." A large growl resounded the area, "Or the beasts like you Berserker. I've met plenty worse in the Ghost Zone."

"Ghost Zone?" Saber quirked an eyebrow.

Caste nodded, "Yeah, the Ghost Zone. Basically it's where you go after you die. Well a lot of people anyways. It's full of all sorts of monsters and baddies. I'm one of them of course. Wasn't always the case. Was a bit of a nobody when I was alive…" She frowned, "No one cared about me aside from my family… I wonder how they're doing…"

"So I'm guessing you want another chance at life?" Saber asked.

Caster nodded, "Full on resurrection. I'm sort of tired of living life as an undead and having my butt kicked. I want to live again and rock hard." She strummed her guitar with gusto, "This time though, I want to do it right. In the now. Not then. I don't want to live that life once more."

Saber nodded, "I understand. I too want a new life. However, my land is besieged by monsters. We were all dying… I want to wish them away. That they never appeared and that my lands were safe from harm. That I could… see my father again."

"How touching," Archer chuckled, showing not the least bit of sympathy. "One wants to play an instrument with mortal fingers and the other wants to be the big hero. So very cute."

"Watch it, Archer." Caster scowled. "I could strum you into the ground."

"I hardly think you could," Archer countered. "Besides, living is terrible. I've seen the here after. I've lived my life fully. None of it was good. The world would be better if it was like me."

"A wretched corpse that breaks the laws of life?" Lancer spoke up nonchalantly.

"Do not speak to a queen in such a tone," Archer scowled.

"I will speak to one of my former kin in any which way I choose," Lancer spoke. "Your kind is so similar to mine. So similar in fact that I would have pegged you for a Dark Eldar with that sort of attitude."

"You have a death wish," Archer narrowed her eyes, looking like she was one step away from murdering Lancer.

"No, you do." Lancer looked rather bored. "You wish for everyone to be undead like you so you can rule over them. I wish for none of that. My wish is the same as Sabers but on the grander scale. The salvation of my people."

"Then I hope we can meet on the battlefield as true warriors then," Saber smiled.

Lancer gave a small bow of her head, "I am unsure about that at the moment but perhaps."

Assassin held up a sign. 'I just want my friend Torchwick back.'

"Ah a friend," Caster grinned. "It was a guy wasn't it?"

'He was like a big brother to me.' Assassin's sign read next.

"And you?" Caster asked Berserker. Berserker just growled and turned away. "Fine, keep your secrets."

"She wishes to be left alone," Lancer spoke. "That no monkeigh, I mean, humans come to bother her. I can also understand that feeling."

"Humans can be bothersome," Archer said.

"We're tenacious," Saber said. Assassin nodded at that, "It's what keeps us alive despite what the worlds throw our way."

"One day it will be your undoing," Lancer said. "Something is going to come along that you can't defeat."

"Then we'll make them regret it with our dying breath," Saber said fervently.

"Oh I'm sure you will," Lancer spoke.

"Enough about that," Caster grinned as she stood up. "How about we have ourselves a little campfire song."

"Please no," both Lancer and Archer said at the same time.

"Too bad," Caster said and then started to sing, much to the previous two servants chagrin.


	8. Chapter 8

The night sky above the American lands had twinkling lights of the stars and nothing else. It was pitch black. Nothing could be seen as everyone aside from a few torch wielding sentinels walking about the area. They were too few to make a difference in the night. For that moment, Patrick, the master of Saber, was alone in the dark. His figure slowly moved up and down with his steady breaths.

He was ready and willing to sleep. One would think he would be more cautious since five other masters were around him. However, a truce was in play. The first one to break it most assuredly would get ganged up by the others. It would make for an easy kill and would allow them to save face in front of the others. This meant that the other masters would trust the loyalists. They could easily use that later in the war. So breaking that now would be out of the question.

Even if that was the case, this night would see one break that pact. For before the sleeping man appeared none other then the servant of the shadows, Assassin. Even if there was no truce, Assassin was sure she could get passed any obstacle or parties. She wouldn't be a good Assassin if she couldn't do that.

Assassin smiled down at the southern man. She twirled her umbrella on her shoulder. To her, she didn't care if she broke this truce honestly. She was used to backstabbing colleagues when she worked for Torchwick. It was how he became the most powerful mafia boss in the city after all. She twisted her cane and pulled her sword free. She quietly made her way to his side and stabbed down.

However, her strike was interrupted when Saber smashed through the tent and smacked her sword away from hitting her master. Assassin jumped back and scowled at Saber. This is what she got for assuming this would be easy.

"You will not touch my master!" Saber shouted before jumped forward with her sword pointed straight at her foe.

Assassin scowled as she used her blade to smack Saber's to the side just enough for her to jump to the side. Then she sprung forward. Saber blocked the stab with the flat of her blade. Assassin jumped backwards and the duo started to pace around each other. She idly noticed her target had left the tent. This meant her mission was a complete failure. No matter. She'd get him next time. Now she just had to deal with Saber.

Saber didn't give her a chance to think as she gave a warcry and charged. Assassin bent her back to avoid the blow that would have sliced her in half if it could get through her aura before twisting her body to go for another stab. While her aura could have let her block it, she knew Saber's sword was magical. It probably wouldn't take many hits to wear her aura thin and break it. She wasn't going to chance it.

Again Saber smacked her smaller blade away before slashing at her. Assassin blocked it and gritted her teeth. Saber was strong that's for sure. Assassin side stepped and let the blade glance downwards before jumping back. Saber didn't let up and closed the gap to continue to attack her. The two servants exchanged blows, the air alive with the sounds of clashing blades. No human could match their blades in speed or power, nor could they attempt to do so in so little light. Their magical senses amplifying their senses to make out their enemy.

Assassin needed to get out of here. She was a great fighter. There was no denying that. Torchwick had won quite a few battles because of her. However, she was not one to go against experienced warriors for long. She preferred hit and run fights. Hitting her opponent in the back. Straight up fights could be fun but she wasn't in the mood for messing around. There were other servants. If she didn't do anything to end this fight now, she'd be taking on five servants by herself.

The last blow from Saber pushed her back. The two combatants stared at the other with their sword raised. Neither of them were tired. They were brimming with energy. They were servants and they would die to uphold that name.

"You fight well for a coward," Saber scowled.

Assassin merely smiled and made a kissy face.

"Do not mock me," Saber rushed in and just as she slashed to gut her, her sword met its mark. Somehow it just passed through her as though she was cutting nothing and her image shattered like glass. "What?"

She stared at the spot that had once housed Assassin. She scowled, "Some ability. Maybe a Noble Phantasm."

"What's going on over here?" Caster landed beside her.

"Assassin tried to kill my master," Saber spoke.

"And you drove her off," Archer said as she walked on over to the forming group. "Well that makes our next move easier or harder depending on how you like fighting Assassins."

"You will best her, Saber." Lancer spoke as she and Berserker were the last to group up. "I have foreseen it."

"Did you see this?" Saber gestured to the tent. "Did you see it happen, Lancer?"

Lancer nodded, "I saw you fighting her and winning. I did not think it was needed of me to tell you it was going to happen."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Caster piped up. "You can tell the future? What's mine?"

"I have not received any visions about you, Caster." Lancer said. "My future sight is limited in some ways and even if I wanted to, I would not tell you what I saw."

Caster narrowed her eyes, "Is that so?"

"We are not fighting amongst each other," Saber said. "Not yet. We have Rider and Assassin to deal with."

"We'll let our masters decide our fate," Archer faked a yawn and smirked. "I honestly don't care which we go after. Perhaps we might even split up."

"Perhaps," Saber said. "Although I'll try and convince my master otherwise. Lancer-"

"I have already told you enough," Lancer said. "Heed my warning however. The future can change. What is certain now can be uncertain at a later date."

Saber sighed, "Of course it wouldn't be so easy."

* * *

Peter swore under his breath as he rode into the wilderness. He and his men had secretly made their way out of the camp so that no one would notice. Thankfully their soldiers had been stationed on the edge of the large camp and their only major problem was getting passed the scadenavian men. They had spent so much time last night drinking that the southern men made it out quite easily. Peter inwardly thanked the stars his men weren't alcoholics.

He was confident that he could get away with this. With the end of Saber and the death of the traitor, he would be one step closer to getting the grail. Saber was a strong servant. He wasn't sure Assassin could kill her in a straight fight although she had some tricks up her sleeve so she might. This was their best chance. As well, he was going to show Patrick what happened to those who left the cause.

Yet the moment he saw Assassin appear before the group and her frustrated expression, he knew she had failed. This was a major blow. Worst case scenario is that he would have five servants biting at his heels. They had a head start but servants could very well keep up with horses. He just hoped that they wouldn't try it with Rider about. Maybe they'd even start fighting each other. One could only hope.

"A bit rash, don't ya think?" The old man he had gotten used to talking with, Smith, spoke up. "Wasn't really hospitable like to try and kill someone during a truce."

"He was a damned traitor," Peter growled. His hands gripped the reins tighter. "He deserved to be hanged."

"Reckon so, but still." Smith shook his head. He pulled away seeing as Peter wasn't going to listen to him.

Peter kept riding on, his anger boiling over. He couldn't stand to think of Patrick surviving this war. With that Saber of his, he could win this conflict and get the wish. No. He had to get the wish. The Confederacy was counting on him. He wouldn't disappoint them. Not his comrades in arms. Not his family. He would win this war. That he would.

His anger started to dissipate when he felt Assassin press into his back. Her arms were small but long enough to go around his midsection. He would be lying if he didn't enjoy to feel her breasts against his back. She knew he liked it. He turned to look back, seeing her worried expression. He smiled at her, "Don't worry, Miss Assassin. Just a bit angry is all. It'll go away."

She pressed her face against his back.

Peter sighed, "Don't beat yourself up over this, ya hear? You did a good job. We'll get Saber next time. No question about that."

Assassin pulled her back her head and smiled. She nodded. That smile filled Peter with hope. Yes, he could win this war. He'd do it for everyone, including Assassin. Things would look up for him. One mistake wasn't the end.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear your feedback. Until next time, take care.**


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